This topic is one that I think about a lot, I think Satan does bad things for the wrong reasons, but don't we all?

I'm not saying that he is the best person in the world, I think he's just human.

For example:

Let's say your friends started a roomer about you, that would probably make you feel angry, and a lot of the time you would want to get revenge on them. Now I'm not saying that's okay, I am simply saying you're human, whether you're the president or you're the guy that lives in his mom's basement. YOU MAKE MISTAKES! And that's fine.

Back to the actual topic, Satan was proud, he wanted everybody to worship him. The bible says that his wings glowed less and that he felt ashamed. So then, he went to the lesser angles and tried to pursue them to join him in a better place. When God found out about this he threw him out of Heaven.

Now I'm guessing he was feeling like you when you're angry and want to get revenge on the person who hurt you, that person, in this situation would be God. But since God was too powerful for the Devil to take on he decided to take on us and prove God wrong.

What I mean by that is that Satan wants us to join him, to make him our king, so I guess he thinks that by hurting us (taking us on) he will change our minds about worshiping Jesus and follow him instead. (proving to God that he would not reign the nations)

My conclusion is that when God threw Satan he took back the angel quality he previously had and left him human. Then Satan wanted to get back at God, but he also wanted to be great again, torn between the two decisions he left and to this day is trying to climb back up to power.

(Still, it does not mean it is okay to torment us!)

A blinding white light hurts my eyes as I try to figure out where I am. "Annabelle? Are you awake?" A woman's voice asks. A thin lady wearing a flowery blouse leans over me, "Oh, yes! Get the doctor, she's awake!" she exclaims excitedly. Soon enough I hear a clatter of feet on tiles, and a man in a white trench coat walks through large sliding doors.

"Well, then you must be Annabelle, I've heard so much about you!" the man says cheerfully. Causing me quite the bit of stress, as I am left wondering what exactly this man has heard about me. I would ask him what he meant, but a plastic mask covers my mouth and nose, it seems to be shoving air into my lungs. Instead of taking the mask off myself I simply point at it, that is all it takes for the man to understand me. "Ah! Yes, the BiPap, one moment!" he exclaims while taking off the strange mask.

"What's going on?" I ask wearily when the mask is off.

"It's really that bad then..." the lady says wistfully.

"You were in a car accident Annabelle. You have a concussion, I am your doctor, you can call me Dr. Roothbee."

"Okay, so if I am Annabelle, and you are Dr. Roothbee, I'm guessing you are my mother?" I ask, slightly un-sure of my prediction.

"Good guess, yes, I am your Mother." the woman confirms.

Who else was in the car crash? I can't help but wonder. Fortunately, the doctor and I seem to be able to communicate telepathically...

"About the car crash, your friend, Maggie, was with you." he hesitates, then goes on, "Unfortunately, she didn't make it."

I can't remember who Maggie is, but if we were in the same car when she died I'm sure we were close. It seems strange that the doctor is the one to tell me this and not my Mother. It was probably too much for her, that would make sense.

I guess this is what hospitals are for, to isolate the suffering and pain so that others don't have to feel it.